Aamna Qureshi on weaving desi warmth into her cozy fantasy, A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison
"For me, cottagecore culture is the romanticization of simple life."
While we love a high fantasy with political intrigue, we will always have a soft spot for cozy fantasy. And when this is combined with a grumpy x sunshine romance, we are eating it up. A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison follows Bisma who uses just a little bit of poison to protect her loved ones, until she has to rely on the son of the apothecary for an anecdote when her sisters got poisoned.
This guest post is written by Aamna Qureshi, author of A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison.
For me, cottagecore culture is the romanticization of simple life. It’s all about disconnecting from the rigamarole of daily life—school, work, chores—and instead connecting with the world’s purest and simplest joys. It’s about spending the extra time it takes to make homemade jam instead of buying store-bought, then inviting your friends over to share a cup of tea. It’s so easy to get caught up in the business of life, those endless things that can so easily become tedious and tiresome. Cottagecore culture invites you to slow down, to take a deep breath—to feel the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair.
I love cozy fantasy, and my favorite stories and worlds in the genre have always made me feel at home. The worlds of Pixie Hollow, Hobbiton, and Narnia; the settings of Howl’s Moving Castle (2004), Ella Enchanted (2004), and Stardust (2007); these were enchanting, whimsical stories I always wanted to escape into.
When I was crafting A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison I was deeply inspired by both cottagecore culture and cozy fantasy. I wanted to craft a world readers would wish to live in, a place that felt comforting, and where magic was not only real, but a part of everyday life. While both cottagecore culture and cozy fantasy are usually categorized by a very western tradition, I wanted to give my story a desi and specifically Pakistani touch.
While working on Witch’s Guide I spent the fall and winter with my family in Pakistan and it was one of the loveliest times of my life. Everything revolved around spending time together as a family, and I felt myself recentering through the simple pleasures of life. After breakfast we’d sit out on charpais (woven beds) on the terrace, moving them into the sun to bask in the warmth as the chilly autumn air blew. It was orange season, and everyday, the scent of citrus filled the air as we split oranges amongst ourselves, trying to see whose was the sweetest. In the evening, we’d watch the sunset over the hills, keeping our hands warm with steaming cups of chai and eating crispy fried pakoras. My grandfather would bring fresh vegetables from the farmer’s market every other day and I would sit with my grandmother, helping her cut and clean the vegetables as she told me recipes and stories. I’d go fabric shopping with my mom, choosing laces and buttons to match before dropping designs off with the tailor. My cousins and I would sit and talk for hours, huddled together with shawls wrapped around our shoulders, sharing family lore and laughing.
None of these things were particularly extraordinary or ground-breaking, but it was one of the best times of my life. I was still working, but it was so much easier to log off of my computer and not think about work: all the things I could have been doing, my never-ending to-do list, all the ways I needed to get ahead. Instead, I lived every moment, no matter how simple or mundane. That was the feeling I wanted to imbue my story with; some of my favorite scenes to write were the ones where the main character, Bisma, spends time with her sisters. They go for picnics and do simple chores and braid one another’s hair. They bicker and laugh and quarrel and love one another. The Enchanted Forest is their home, a magical place where they are welcome and safe—and isn’t that what we all want?
